Just Back From… Dorset

And Surrey…

(Please click on the photographs to enlarge them)

The OH and I often had a spring break – either April or May. Sometimes heading for Surrey where we would spend time with my daughter and the grandchildren (if they were around) and David would often catch a train to spend a day with his daughter in London or a longer stay at her home in Colchester.

This year I had to do this on my own. Thinking about whether I should move nearer to family I chose to stay in Dorchester for a week, the historic county town of Dorset and home of the Victorian novelist Thomas Hardy,  before moving on to Surrey for the early spring Bank Holiday. Dorchester gave me an opportunity to explore some of east Dorset which I haven’t visited in many years. I liked the old part, hated Poundbury (soulless) but wasn’t keen on all the traffic. It does have excellent transport links with two railway stations with a route to Bristol and one to London.

I walked along the River Frome. I walked around the town. I ate dinner at a lovely country inn, I walked on the Jurassic coast (shingle) had takeaway coffee and ice-cream (not at the same time) visited Wareham and Studland and several gardens. The weather remained dry, though not always warm, and I stayed in a lovely pristine quiet converted stable in the old part of the town. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it might be. Before I met David I often had solo holidays and even when I accompanied him to conferences I spent many a day exploring on my own. The hardest part is during the evening and eating out alone. I just pretended I was away for work! And ate in the cottage most evenings.

My first garden visit was to Athelhampton Hall between Puddletown and Tolpuddle (you have to love Dorset names), those of us of a certain age will recall the story of the Tolpuddle Martyrs from history lessons. Of course being a Monday when I visited the museum was closed. I had a very nice lunch at Athelhampton including a naughty slice of treacle tart with clotted cream.

The following day I headed for the Jurassic coast. I have been here before – most recently in 2014 (was it really that long ago?) when we spent a week in Bridport for my birthday and enjoyed a birthday meal in the Hive restaurant on the beach at Hive Beach, Burton Bradstock. This time I parked at Cogden Beach and walked along the cliff to BB. This is when I damaged my toe.

The drive there from Dorchester was glorious. Hidden dips, blind summits, a flash of a bluebell wood, the Anglo Saxon village of Abbotsbury with its thatched roofs and abbey ruins and driving back I had a glorious view of the famous Chesil Beach.

The Sculpture by the Lakes was my next stop. A gentle stroll around the two lakes where you will find a gift shop, an art gallery and a restaurant. There is also a retreat and sound baths and riverside venues you can book for a private get together.

Holme for Gardens was on my list. Not just a garden centre, this place has a very popular café, a farm shop and a 15 acre garden to wander through. It’s a good job I don’t live closer, I could spend serious money here.

Being only two miles from Wareham I stopped off to have a look at the town. When I was a child we often stayed in a caravan close to this town, but I remembered nothing about it. The quayside was full of old people, and yes, I know I am one of them, but it felt a bit like a pensioners’ day out.

I could have gone to Corfe Castle and in fact I did drive right past it, but I have been there before and it’s still a ruin. And with the state of my foot I didn’t think it wise to be clambering up the steep slopes. Instead I drove to Studland and South Beach, another place I went to as a child. Not this particular beach though. I wasn’t impressed by the beach or the sea or the view (though Old Harry Rocks were impressive) and less impressed by the rather expensive chicken curry I had at the Bankes Arms Inn.

Still I enjoyed my time driving through the Dorset countryside as my Google map seemed to enjoy taking me off the main roads – worryingly so when my cable or signal kept fading out.

After an altogether satisfying week it was time to leave and because I was almost half way there I had booked a hotel near Guildford for the bank holiday weekend so I could visit my daughter and granddaughters in their new homes. On the way I decided to have a stop at Kingston Lacy to visit the Japanese Garden there. I have driven past the sign to this NT place many times in the past as I used to visit a school in Sturminster Newton when I worked as a Lead Assessor for the IT Diploma, but never found the time to stop.

I was hobbling a bit by now as having had to wear flip flops for most of the week, my feet were quite swollen. I did manage to get to the Japanese tea garden, but disappointingly you can only view it from outside.

A couple of hours later I arrived at the boutique hotel in a little village outside Guildford. Another interesting journey through country lanes! I grabbed a Peroni from the honesty bar and went to sit outside in the pretty garden to wait for my daughter to pick me up.

On the Sunday we had a walk in a bluebell wood where unfortunately the bluebells were pretty much over, a wander around Guildford Castle (which I’m ashamed to say that despite Guildford being a town we visited regularly when we lived in Surrey I had never been to) followed by a lovely Sunday roast in a pub next to the river Wey.

My final outing with my daughter was to RHS Wisley on the bank holiday Monday, which meant it was very busy. But Wisley is one of my favourite gardens and when living in Surrey I used to visit it regularly over the seven years we lived there. It has changed a lot over the years and a marvellous garden to stroll around. On this occasion there was a rather large craft fair going on with stalls ranging from jewellery to garden furniture. And no I didn’t buy anything though I was tempted by the Adirondack chair.

There will be more posts about some of these places I visited over the coming weeks. At the moment I am trying to rest the foot / toe which is not so painful, but still a little red around the black nail.